


Cor, Reporting In

by Andromedas_Void



Series: MT!Prompto [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, MT!Prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromedas_Void/pseuds/Andromedas_Void
Summary: “How old are you?”The question knocked him from his thoughts, eyebrows raised as he turned back to Prompto. “I'm forty five.”Prompto nodded and smiled, “I'm twenty.”





	Cor, Reporting In

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during chapter 13 of Original.
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

The boy was young, just barely an adult, blond hair and skin pale, a still healing sunburn on his shoulders. From Cor's angle, he appeared to be about the prince's height though much slighter in build, thinner arms, much less muscle mass even compared to Noctis' trim, yet surprisingly fit, body. He was a far cry from what the man had expected when told the prince would be bringing an MT to the Citadel.

From the second they entered the throne room, the young man – Noctis introduced him as Prompto Argentum - avoided eye contact. He stuck to Ignis' side, knuckles nearly white where he gripped the young adviser's hand, shoulders tense, the toes of his boots turned inwards. It told Cor a lot in the moment. He was scared – no, pertified would be a more accurate statement. 

The blond man jumped when Clarus raised his voice, Noctis stepping back in front of him, protecting the MT from a potential threat. He knew Clarus would cause Prompto no harm, regardless of his body language.

For the most part, Cor remained silent throughout the meeting, simply watching the four men below him, taking in their interactions, their body language, how they were ready to jump to the MT's defense if need be.

It had him wondering just how close they had become with Prompto. 

Prompto had made a face, lips pressed into a hard line and eyebrows pinch together, when Regis had called MT 'soulless machines'. Cor wondered if he took it as a personal insult, being someone who looks so human, or one on behalf of the Empire.

He watched as the young man trembled when Clarus stepped close, as Gladio rubbed his arm, whispering something in his ear after Clarus had collected the files from Ignis. He watched Clarus ascend the stairs after that, studying the man, before turning back to Gladio, and Cor understood then what Gladio had said.

When Clarus had made mention of the MT being a threat – tactlessly, Cor silently added – Gladio had took offense. He yelled at the King's Shield, his father, and broke position to block Prompto from further view. That told Cor they were thoroughly attached to the blond, fiercely protective even. A glance at the open folder in Regis' hand, where he was tapping his finger, explained further.

Ignis was no longer holding Prompto's hand when he looked back. He had wound his arm around the young man's waist, pulling him in closer. It was in much the same way Cor remembered he used to do when Noctis and he were still children and the prince was in the middle of a scolding for, once again, sneaking out of his room late at night. It was familiar, judging by how easily it soothed the blond.

– 

“Cor, I want you to keep an eye on young Argentum,” Regis requested, eyes straying from the document in his hand to the throne room door. “See how he reacts with my son and his retainers.”

Cor nodded once and paused.

“And see to it that any rumors of him being a Magitek Soldier are quashed immediately,” the king added, turning to the man.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Cor gave him a short bow, one hand held in a fist over his chest, before he decended the steps. 

He pushed at the door, slipping through and out into the hall. The four young men were nowhere to be seen but he wasn't surprised. Judging by how close the new arrival to the Citadel stuck to Ignis, he had a good idea where they were headed. He couldn't see them leaving Ignis' apartment for the remainder of the evening.

He turned in the opposite direction of the elevator, walking down the hallway and away from the living quarters.

–

Three days passed the prince and his retinue arrived at the Citadel before Cor spotted the newcomer. He was with Ignis, hands held fast as the prince's adviser led the two of them to the elevator leading down to the parking garage. The blond was wearing the same clothes he had seen him in upon their arrival, khaki pants and a red sleeveless top.

They returned severeal hours later, Prompto visibly tired but smiling none the less, arms ladened with shopping bags from both clothing and eletronic stores. He gave Ignis a short nod of acknowledgement as they passed but otherwise remaining silent.

–

Muffled gunshots echoed down the hall, slipping past the office door and alerting Cor. The schedule on his desk had no one marked down for firearms training that day. Pausing, he listened for a moment. The shots were slow, uneven, he could almost hear the hesitation in them.

Grunting, he pushed himself away from the desk and stood. It was a short walk to the training rooms, the door to the firing range closed save for a small crack. He pushed it open and frowned. At the middle of the room stood Gladio, his new friend Prompto staring up at him, latching onto and absorbing his every instruction like a sponge. His face was turned away but Cor saw the quick nods before he fixed his earmuffs and took aim, firing off another shot.

Prompto turned back to Gladio, removing his earmuffs, and Cor caught sight of the gentle touch on his elbow, the way Gladio easily directed the blond's body. It appeared to be more of a suggestion than the drills Cor himself would use in training.

Another shot was fired, Cor seeing an unmistakable squint from the blond man, even from the doorway. That just wouldn't do for a long range fighter.

He tilted his head back when Gladio spotted him. 

“Marshal.”

Stepping into the room, he saw Prompto shifting from his view. He made no mention of it and looked to the gun, a quicksilver, on the shelf to the target sheet, only one out of four holes inside the outer most circle. “Learning some self defense?” he asked, finally turning back to the two younger men, hands clasped loosely behind his back.

“Trainin',” was all Gladio said, angling his body to hide more of the blond.

Cor hummed, nodding. He didn't press further. “You may want to practise with a smaller gun first. Give him time to get used to the recoil before moving on to the quicksilver,” he offered as he stepped back towards the door. He paused in the doorway, turning just enough to see the two still in the room. “And see about getting him an eye exam. Wouldn't want Prompto to damage his eyes because he's squinting all the time,” he added, leaving the room and letting the door click closed behind him.

He could barely make out Gladio questioning Prompto through the heavy steel. If there was a reply, he his distance from the room and the thick steel of the door prevented him from hearing it.

–

“Shit,” Noctis whispered before turning to face Cor. “Um... Ignis is in the bathroom.”

Cor's face remained passive at the blatant lie. “Ignis is at a meeting,” he corrected. “Try again.”

Prompto looked away, hand held in Noctis, staring down the hall at the paintings. He seemed calm today, more interested in the furnishings than the Marshal.

“Gladio-” Noctis tried.

“Is in the training yard, where I just came from.”

Noctis grimaced, caught in his lie, and let out a loud sigh. “You're gonna tell dad, aren't you?”

“I could turn a blind eye,” Cor started, glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting the king to appear from the shadows, “if you head back to Ignis' apartment right now. His Majesty will be none the wiser that you are without your guards.”

“You could watch us,” Noctis said. He had released Prompto's hand and clasped his own together, giving Cor what was probably his best puppy dog eyes, attempting to plead with him.

“That doesn't work on me. Plus, I am still on the clock,” Cor told him, shooing them back down the hall. “Now, off with the two of you.” He heard Noctis grumble something under his breath before taking the blond's hand once more, turning and heading back towards the elevator.

–

“-off limits to civilians.”

Cor turned his head towards the voice, spotting a Glaive walking quickly down the hall. He couldn't see who he was speaking to.

“Did you wander away from a tour group? C'mon, I'll take you back downstairs,” the Glaive said, reaching for the offender's arm.

“I wasn't-” The new voice had Cor stepping closer. “Ignis said to...”

“Ulric,” Cor called out, stopping just behind the other man. 

“Marshal.” Nyx Ulric stood at attention, hand still around Prompto's bicep while the blond stared between the two, panic threatening to take over him. “I was about to escort this young man back to the public section of the Citadel.”

“That won't be necessary. Young Argentum here is a guest of His Highness,” Cor explained.

“A guest?”

Cor nodded and held a hand out. 

Nyx was quick to comply, releasing Prompto's arm as the young man stepped over to Cor. The Glaive gave them a quick bow and walked down the hall, back to his patrol.

“Where are your escorts?” Cor asked once Nyx was out of earshot. “Ignis or Gladio are supposed to accompany you at all times.”

Prompto flinched, his head dropping down to stare at his boots. “Ignis said to stay outside the door,” he mumbled. “He said he'd only be a minute.”

“Which door?” Cor frowned, glancing at the doors along the wall. Offices, all of them. Ignis' was down a different corridor. When Prompto stayed quiet, eyes darting down both sides of the hallway, Cor took a guess. “Did you get lost?”

Prompto tensed, fingers knotting together.

“Prompto! Ah, Marshal,” Ignis called out, hurrying towards them, worry painting his face. 

Prompto immediately shifted closer to Ignis, taking his hand. He turned his eyes back towards the paintings on the wall opposite the office doors.

“I must apologise, I had to step inside my office for a few moments while I was showing Prompto around the Citadel, see to some business, and-”

“It's alright, Ignis,” Cor said, cutting him off with a wave of his hand.

“I'm afraid it's not,” Ignis went on. “I had promised to show Prompto around today as both Noctis and Gladio are busy, but it seems I, too, am needed. I had received a phone call while I was inside and Councillor Han requested my assistance. I regret to say she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.” He let out a sigh, eyes on Prompto.

The blond looked back at him, frowning.

“You said you were going to take him on a tour of the Citadel?” Cor asked.

“I... yes. Today was meant to be a day off for me,” Ignis said.

“I can take him,” Cor offered. “If you don't mind me at your side instead of Ignis,” he added to Prompto.

Prompto stared at Cor for a moment, then back at Ignis. “Does that mean I can still see the paintings? The ones Noct mentioned about a prophecy?”

“Sure, kid. I might even be able to answer some questions you have about the paintings,” Cor told him. “But I'm probably not as up to date on my facts as Ignis would be.”

Ignis appeared torn about the offer. “Are you quite sure you don't mind?” he asked Cor. “I would take Prompto back to my apartment to wait for me but he does not like being alone for so long.”

Cor waved his hand again. “I don't mind. Besides, if Prompto is okay with it, we can get to know each other since he'll be living at the Citadel for the forseeable future.”

“Please, Ignis?” Prompto begged, turning completely to the adviser and grabbing his hands. “I wanna see the paintings.”

Ignis let out a soft laugh, shoulders relaxing. “Very well. But you must remember to not wander away from the Marshal,” he said and Prompto nodded his head quickly. Turning back to Cor, he continued. “If anything happens, please take him back to my apartment and call me.”

Cor gave him a nod. “Shall we?” He averted his eyes when Prompto stood on his tiptoes to place a kiss on Ignis' cheek.

–

“How tall is it?” Prompto asked, awe filling both his voice and his face, as he craned his neck to stare at the painting of the prophecy. Four men huddled together on the warm, golden backdrop.

Cor examined it himself, hands behind his back. “About fifteen foot tall and twenty five foot wide,” he guessed. 

“Who painted them?” was the next question.

Shrugging, Cor tilted his head to the side. “I don't think anyone really knows. They're pretty old.”

“How old?”

“One thousand years would be my guess,” Cor said. “Although the prophecy itself is around two thousand years old.”

Prompto nodded throughtfully. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared. “What _is_ the prophecy?” he finally asked, looking over to Cor.

“ _'The King chosen by the Crystal will bring back the light'_ , or something like that,” he said. “Ignis would be better at explaining the finer details but to put it simply, the Starscourge is killing the planet, the days are getting shorter, and the Chosen King will save the world.”

Prompto blinked up at him, eyes bright, yet confused, behind his glasses. He turned back to the painting, frowning, and stayed silent.

He was transfixed by the painting, barely sparing a glance to the other paintings in the room. Cor watched him for a few minutes, Prompto's eyes darting from face to face, only focusing for a few seconds before moving on. He seemed to linger the longest on the fair haired man in the painting, longer even than the 'Chosen King' in the center.

Cor figured it had something to do with the man's hair color. While light colored hair had become more common in Lucis over the last century or two, when the painting had be completed, it had been rare to the point of being nearly unheard of. It led to numerous rumors that one of the men beside the Chosen King would be a foreigner, something that struck a lot of nerves centuries ago.

_The True King would never allow a foreigner to be by his side_ was the most common complaint. Some members of the council would still whisper those words where King Regis wouldn't hear them.

“How old are you?”

The question knocked him from his thoughts, eyebrows raised as he turned back to Prompto. “I'm forty five.”

Prompto nodded and smiled, “I'm twenty.” 

Cor was aware. His file said as much. 'Born on October 25th', Ignis had written in his notes, 'same year as Noctis'. He nodded back regardless.

–

“Smitten?” Regis repeated, failing to restrain a smile at the word. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Clarus pinched his lips together, composing himself.

Cor nodded. “Would you prefer I said he's clearly in love with Noctis and his boyfriends?” he asked. His shifted on the sofa, reaching for his mug of coffee and taking a sip. “From what I've seen, Prompto is no threat to the Prince. Or anyone else, for that matter. He looks at them like they're the sun, for lack of a better term.”

“He seems particulary attached to Ignis,” Clarus put in. 

Regis closed the folder on his desk, taking a sip from his own coffee mug. He had come to the same conclusion well before Cor even handed him his report on Prompto. Other than the method of creation, Prompto was simply just a normal human being; a normal twenty year old with a serious penchant for learning whatever he could.

He wouldn't dare separate the blond from his friends, or rather his boyfriends, as Cor's report had clearly stated. That meant he only had one thing left to do. Stowing the file in his desk, he turned to both the men sitting in front of him. “Cor, if you would, please escort Noctis and his retainers to my office, Prompto included. I believe we have some important details to discuss with them about the near future.”


End file.
